Trust
by lady bundtcake
Summary: Musashi doesn't know how to trust anyone, not even the man she thinks she might be in love with.


~* Trust *~   
  
April 2000   
  
Category: The writhing anguish of the human soul!! And it may be *slightly* melodramatic... ^_^   
  
Spoilers: "Snow Way Out!", "Princess Vs. Princess", "The School of Hard Knocks", "The Bridge Bike Gang", and a big fat huge one for "Holy Matrimony!". Actually, I would highly recommend seeing all of 'em beforehand so you know what the hecky-darn I'm talking about!   
  
Summary: Musashi does a little self-reflection late one night.   
  
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Don't claim to. Don't sue.   
  
Prepare to be depressed! Grab a box of bon-bons! ::Mwuhahahahaha::   
  
...or not! ^_^** enjoy!   
  
~rikachu*   
  
Ooooh, I did a Rocket Jesse style header! ::grinz:: That automatically makes me cool, right?   
  
Revised Author's Notes (11/03): This one is my favorite TR fic I've written, hands down. Don't ask me to explain, because I couldn't tell you! Hehe. It's super angst!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
~* TRUST *~   
  
From the time I was four years old until now, I've never been able to trust people. Why? Because they don't deserve to *be* trusted! Everyone I have ever loved or placed any faith in has abandoned me for something else they thought was more important, and I'm through with it! The only way you can be completely happy is to trust only in yourself and no one else, because the only thing other people are good for is letting you down.   
  
-------   
  
I'm lying here in my sleeping bag. It's dark outside, and once again we're in the middle of nowhere. How like Team Rocket: it's always getting me nowhere. I can hear Nyase snoring a little ways away, and beside me I can hear the gentle breathing of my partner. Kojiro. In the light from the dying embers of our campfire, I can just barely make out his pale face, framed by that soft-looking blue hair of his. I'm smiling a little. He has no idea, but I always fall asleep looking at his handsome face and listening to his breathing. It's so...comforting, I guess is the word for it. Since I've known him, he's grown to be more than a best friend. Much more. But even so, I don't dare trust anyone anymore. My memories of failed trust are way too painful for me to risk it again. I flop over on my back and stare up at the stars, thinking...   
  
-------   
  
When I was little, I was convinced I had the best mommy in the whole world. Oh good grief, did I just think "mommy"? Well...that's what I remember her as, I guess. Mommy. Oh great, I'm going to start crying...real way to be tough, Musashi...way to go. My mommy...mother...Miyamoto. God, she was so pretty. I remember being little and pretending my mother was a beautiful queen and she ruled the whole world. She was kind and just and all her royal subjects looked up to her. Especially me. I was the lovely princess, with dozens of suitors seeking my hand. My mother and I were rulers of everything together, and no one could go against us.   
  
I guess that way my way of escaping reality, because my reality stunk. We were dirt poor. My dad was a lowbrow pokémon trainer who made absolutely next-to-nothing, and at the time, I didn't know what my mom did. But as far as money went, we had none. We had to scrape together to get our evening meals, and I always had to wear the rattiest hand-me-downs of any girl in town. I didn't even have a pokémon of my own. Talk about being a first-class loser.   
  
But I had my imagination. To me, my tacky old dresses were gorgeous, shimmering gowns and my hair ribbons were sparkling tiaras. An old paper sack became my very favorite pokémon, a Pikachu, and our sparse meals of rice were lavish banquets. My imagination was all I had then. My dad was out scrimping for cash and Mommy was always working. But we made do, and I think at the time I actually had a good attitude about it. I remember lying on my pallet in my loft sometimes and hearing my parents downstairs, talking in low voices about me.   
  
"Miyamoto, what are we going to do? Musashi deserves better than this."   
  
"I know," my mother said grimly.   
  
"She's such a good girl. She would give anything for that doll set she always looks at in the shop window. But we just don't have the money...I'd give anything for her to have those toys."   
  
"Listen," my mother said, excitedly. My mother always was an excitable person, almost hyperactive. "Madame Boss is sending me on a new mission, to capture a rare pokémon, Myuu. If I succeed, there will be a big bonus for me."   
  
"When has Madame Boss ever given you a big bonus, Miyamoto?" my father said wearily.   
  
"Well..." my mother said, a trace of doubt clouding her cheery voice. "It will be different this time! We have to have hope that it will be."   
  
"Miyamoto," my dad said softly. "Please. Stop working for Team Rocket and that horrible Madame Boss. It's wrong...the whole business is wrong!"   
  
"I know, I know. But it's just for now, until we can get on our feet and you're a successful pokémon trainer with your own gym!" my mother said reassuringly. "Then we'll have lots of money, and our little princess Musashi will have all the toys and clothes she could ever want."   
  
I smiled at that. I was Mommy's little princess. That meant everything to me. The next morning as I came down the ladder for breakfast, my mother greeted me, dressed in her work clothes. A short black dress with a huge red "R" emblazoned on the chest, and white gloves and boots. She swept me up into her arms and hugged me close. I giggled and played with a strand of her long, purplish hair.   
  
She held me away a little and looked at me seriously. "Musashi, dearest," she said, "I have to go on a journey today." My face fell. "Mommy...you're always gone! Stay here and play with me today!" I begged. Childish, I know, but I was only four at the time. She set me down and knelt before me, gently touching my hair.   
  
"Don't worry about me. I won't be gone long this time. And when I come back, I'll bring presents and food and anything you could want. We'll be rich after I do this job for Madame." My lower lip stuck out, and it wobbled. I felt the tears well up inside me, shoving to get out, until finally I burst out crying and clutched against her black bodice. "No!!" I cried, my tears soaking her dress.   
  
Mommy held me close, stroking my hair, comforting me silently. "Musashi, you must be brave. I promise you, after this I will never leave on journeys again."   
  
I sniffed. "Promise?"   
  
"Darling, I promise you. With all my heart." Mommy wanted to take a picture of me, so she could carry me close to her heart while she was away. I wanted so much to give her what she wanted, but I couldn't stop crying long enough for the shutter to snap. She finally resorted to taking a picture of me crying, saying to me, "When I look at this, I will remember how much we miss each other, and I will try to hurry home."   
  
I watched her go that day. My dad and I stood outside, holding each other and watching her walk away. Just before she was out of sight, she turned and waved. I remember her being surrounded in blazing sunlight that glinted boldly off her long hair. She looked so determined and brave, and she smiled reassuringly to us. Then she turned back and headed the other way. As she disappeared from view, a cloud passed over and blocked the sun momentarily, shrouding the countryside in dimmer light and sending a chill down my spine.  
  
I shivered and pressed closer to my dad.   
  
It's odd how I remember that, but I can think back to that day and play it through my head just like a movie. The colors, the smells, the sounds...the shadow of the cloud and the darkness that crept into my heart. I knew it then, from that one cloud. But I didn't say anything, because I hoped I was wrong. I waited. For days, which soon turned into a week. Then two weeks. And every day became more and more painful, and my mother seemed to be slipping further away from me.   
  
I wanted her back. I wanted money, and good food, beautiful dresses and a doll set like the one in the shop window. And most of all, I wanted her.   
  
-------   
  
I'm flopping back and forth in the sleeping bag now. Next to me, Kojiro is still breathing softly, evenly. He's so peaceful. And then there's me. I feel like I'm drowning in deep, cold water. My mother. Oh god, why did she have to leave me? The tears are coming to me now, sliding down my cheeks like a drizzling rain. I have to choke back my sobs. I can't have Kojiro waking up and finding me like this. I roll over, facing away from him, and silently sob in the stillness.   
  
It hurts to think about her. It hurts like a knife. I guess it always will. I loved her so much, and I never saw her again...when I think of all we might have shared later on...she never saw me grow up and become a woman. And I never got to know her. Maybe I would have turned out differently if she were still with me. Maybe I would be nicer, happier, more like her. Maybe I could have learned to love others again. Maybe at least I could have learned to love myself.   
  
Yeah, well forget it. I'm fine just the way I am. Musashi, give it a rest.   
  
-------   
  
"Miyamoto is missing. She disappeared in an avalanche a few days ago and we haven't heard from her since."   
  
The man in the black uniform was so calm. It made me furious. I wanted to leap at him and choke him, scream at him, blame him. How dare he be so calm? My heart had just been ripped in half!   
  
I ran out of the room, frenzied and wild, running away from the awful truth I didn't want to believe. I ran out of the house, through the streets, through the town and into the woods. I was panicked and mad and humiliated and frightened and I didn't even care. I just had to run...I had to...   
  
I made it to the river and stopped, staring at the mighty rapids beating against the shore. I was too little to wade the river and cross it, so I had to stop running. Standing there for a moment, I stared at the awesome power of the flowing river. And then the truth caught up with me.   
  
And it hurt. It hurt so bad.   
  
It stabbed me, forcing me to my knees. I collapsed on the bank of the river and sat there in stunned silence. And then I cried. Cried? I bawled, kicked, screamed, and wailed. It was more than crying. It was pure pain.   
  
"She broke her promise!" I screamed to no one. "She said she'd come home!! She said..." my voice strained, "I was her princess."   
  
I buckled over and fell on my face. I was dead inside.   
  
My dad found me. Cradling my limp form in his arms, he carried me home and put me to bed on my pallet. And I remember lying on my straw mat that night, too crazed to sleep, and hearing him sob below me. He was hurting, too. I had no idea how much. After the death of my mother, I was constantly furious and my dad was a shell of the man he had been. People would come to our house bringing gifts and flowers. I would yell at them to go away. Sometimes I would hurl rocks and things at them. My dad would just stand there and let me do it, his blank face showing no expression.   
  
My aunt came to help us out, and moved into our tiny house with us. She was my dad's sister, and was this large woman with bright red hair that looked a lot like my own. She had one of those big, jovial voices that sound perpetually cheerful. She could be annoying at times, but still, she was a good deal of help to us.   
  
Things went better for a little while after she came. The house was always clean, and she made do with our small amounts of food, always managing to prepare nice, simple meals for us. I wasn't happy, by any means, but I was calmer for the time being. And then something happened to further weaken my trust in people. My dad left me.   
  
I guess what makes me the angriest is that he didn't even say good-bye. He just left. After my mom died, there hadn't been much of him left anyway, but I still was angry that he deserted me. And I never saw him again, so I still don't know what became of him. Maybe he was so drowned in sorrow that he had to completely abandon his life and start a new one somewhere. I'll never know.   
  
But after that I was furious. And I came full circle, from the sweet, charming, innocent little redhead adored by everyone for her simple beauty and kindness to a horrible monster of a child. I was constantly irritated and would often hit kids if they tried to play games with me. Needless to say, I didn't have a whole lot of friends. Not that I really cared.   
  
My aunt tried everything, and eventually ended up babying me. She was constantly and unfailingly kind to me, because she knew I was like a time bomb: I could go off at any second. So she pampered me, and I reveled in it.   
  
I actually took to calling the woman "Mommy", just because I needed to. I needed to have someone I could love again.   
  
One hard winter when I was six or seven, we had virtually no food, so to please me, she would make what I called a "snowgasboard". It was a meal made entirely out of snow, and as disgusting as it tasted, I loved it. I often thanked her with the words, "This is the best meal any mommy ever made for me!" She would smile at me, her large round face creased with worry. But she let me call her mommy.   
  
Then, when I was eleven years old, she dropped a bomb on me.   
  
"Musashi," she said over dinner one evening, "I've saved for six years, and I have enough money now to get you into Pokémon Tech! You're so sharp about pokémon...this will be perfect for you!"   
  
I stared at her, hurt. "You...you want to get rid of me, Mommy?"   
  
She flinched at those words. "No, but Musashi, there's no future for you here. If you go to Pokémon Tech, you can learn how to make a living, and you won't have to live this way anymore. Besides, I can't take care of you for always, you see. I feel we both need to get on with out lives."   
  
"Mommy," I gasped. "You can't make me go!"   
  
"Musashi, I'm not your mommy. I'm your aunt."   
  
"You're my mommy!" I screamed angrily. I knew she was right. Tears stung at my eyes.   
  
"No," she said quietly, firmly. She looked at me straight in the eyes. "I'm not your mother, Musashi. Your mother, Miyamoto, is dead. She died years ago."   
  
I stared at her, a cold, hard glare. And then I screamed. I flipped over our small dining table, sending plates and glasses and food flying across the room. Our only dishes shattered against the wall, and the food spattered the threadbare rug. My aunt stared at me, and I could see the fear in her eyes. The realization hit me: she was afraid of me!   
  
At eleven, I had this power over people, to make them absolutely terrified. It frightened me.   
  
-------   
  
Kojiro is sleeping like a baby. His eyes are screwed tight shut, and a slight smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. He seems to be singing something softly as he dreams...I listen closer to him.   
  
"Lucky, lucky..." he murmurs softly into his pillow.   
  
I inwardly groan. But then I smile. Even though he's pretty stupid, he's adorable just the same.   
  
"Hey, Kojiro," I say softly, grinning. The temptation to just touch him possesses me, and I stretch my hand out in the semi-darkness, brushing that little strand of hair out of his face. He shifts a little, and I hastily withdraw my hand. Then I see the smile on his mouth widen, as he whispers, "Musashi-san..."   
  
I know he's dreaming. He's half snoring as he says it.   
  
It's kinda nice to know he dreams about me.   
  
-------   
  
Those tech uniforms were probably the ugliest things I'd ever seen in my life. I hadn't really given much thought to style before, since I'd always been poor. But those things were UGLY. Pokémon Tech is where I met *him*.   
  
Just thinking about him still turns my stomach. Okay, so I carried a picture of him for years even after we broke up, but still...it's not like I felt anything for him. He was just my first boyfriend. And my first kiss, and my first love. But he was definitely not the first to betray me.   
  
I was not the prettiest thing at that school. I remember seeing all the other girls my age, and they all looked so tall and willowy compared me. I was short and gangly from never getting a decent meal. My face was drawn and pale, and my eyes unusually large. But just the same, *he* found me attractive.   
  
Or maybe he just found me easy. That's a little more likely, considering I was about as beautiful as a Nidoqueen.   
  
He was a soccer player, and a year older than me. I remember that. And I thought he was so handsome. I thought that even after we broke up. It took me six years before I finally saw through him. If that lousy Ditto hadn't screwed up his face as it replicated my photo, I might still be pining after that idiot. I guess I owe that ridiculous purple blob of putty some gratitude after all.   
  
Anyway, he took me under his wing the minute I walked through the doors of Pokémon Tech. He was so nice to me, and treated me like the princess I'd always imagined myself to be. For the first time in a long time, I felt loved. So I began to love him back.   
  
On my twelfth birthday, he sneaked up to my dorm room that night after curfew. I thought it was so daring, very Romeo-and-Juliet. And he brought me my present: my first kiss.   
  
It was like something out of a smarmy chick-flick, the type of movie I'd never watch. Well, unless I were alone and no one knew about it...  
  
Basically, we wound up on the floor making out. I didn't even know I knew how to make out. And all the while we were touching all over and...I don't even want to think about it. It makes me sick.   
  
And then the hall monitor burst in. She was amazingly sneaky like that. I think she was either psychic or nosy. Maybe both.   
  
At the time, I was more than perturbed (not to mention embarrassed) but now I'm thankful. Thankful I didn't make a further idiot out of myself with that horrid boy. But after our interrupted evening, he seemed to lose interest in me. Of course, I was totally distraught. All I could think of were ways to get him back.   
  
I started caking on the makeup and styling my hair even bigger than I had before. I'd leave the first few buttons of my blouse undone and strut around as provocatively as I could (which, at the time, wasn't very). But it was no use. I was still a relatively short, underdeveloped twelve-year-old without an attractive figure, just bony legs and elbows.   
  
Meanwhile, he had found someone else. Yamato.  
  
  
  
She made me so mad! With her long, blonde pigtails, her large purple eyes, not to mention her perfect figure. At the time, she was the prettiest girl at Pokémon Tech. And she was older than me, AND seeing my ex-boyfriend!   
  
It couldn't really get much worse than that. And did she ever flaunt herself! That girl was constantly flirting, wooing boys with her sultry voice and her fabulous body.   
  
I tried to get even with my boyfriend by finding another boyfriend. But no one would have me. I was "just a kid", not a girl anyone was interested in. I was nothing on Yamato, anyway.   
  
It took less than a year for that to change. One good thing about Pokémon Tech: I could eat to my heart's content! And I did! I would stuff my face full at every meal, sitting alone in my corner of the cafeteria, just happy to have warm food to cram down my throat. It was wonderful, complete bliss!   
  
The good food did wonders for my health. I began to grow taller all of a sudden, until I reached five foot seven! My face rounded out and looked less hollow, and the color returned to my face. Even so, I was still paler than most people, and still am. The years of malnutrition had a lasting effect on me after all, I guess. On top of everything, my body was less gangly and scrawny.   
  
And it began to fill out.   
  
When I say "fill out", I mean it filled out! Out of nowhere, I suddenly acquired this model-like body. I was proud of it, and wore my skirt shorter because it made me feel pretty and confident. And other people noticed!   
  
For the first time ever, I was being noticed by people. Boys would stare at me as I walked, and some would even give wolf-whistles or grin and wink shyly at me. I felt so secure, not to mention arrogant. I was gorgeous, and everyone knew it. I could feel other girls eyeing me jealously, and I loved it.   
  
Finally, I had something important.   
  
Unfortunately, it got me in a lot of trouble. Because the thing is, when you're small and ugly, you're respected for your mind. Because it's all you've got. But when you're tall, slender, fair-skinned and pretty, you lose that respect. It's unfair, and it's unjust, but people just stop looking at who you are and concentrate only on the physical. And before you know it, all you see of yourself is the physical. Because that's all you're able to see.   
  
-------   
  
I'm looking at Kojiro again, and the tears are coming again. Brushing them away, I keep thinking that I'm such a wimp. Thank goodness everyone else is asleep.   
  
I mutter to myself, "Why did all this happen to me?"   
  
I look at him for an answer, and there's no sound save his soft breathing. I sigh, wishing he were awake. I imagine myself telling him all this, about all this stupid pain I have inside me, and how I can't get rid of it. He'd comfort me, of course. Maybe he would give me a hug and tell me everything was okay. And maybe then I could tell him I love him.   
  
I sniff back a tear. I could never do that...what would he say?   
  
"I love you, Musashi," would be nice.   
  
I roll my eyes. Musashi, you sound like a love-struck, air headed teenager! Snap out of it!   
  
Move on, already, geez...   
  
Still...it *would* be awfully nice of him.   
  
-------   
  
It was the night before finals, and I hadn't studied. I was beyond caring. I decided it wasn't important. Besides, I was smart, just like my aunt said. I could pass without even trying.   
  
So I had decided to go for a walk around the campus park. It was a beautiful evening out that night, and stars lit up the indigo blue sky. I gazed at them as I walked slowly along the edge of the lake in the park.   
  
I heard something, and turned to look. It was *him*.   
  
"Pretty night out, huh?"   
  
I nodded and mumbled something incoherent. I refused to look at him, so he came and stood next to me. I could feel my skin crawl with my utter dislike for him.   
  
"Studied hard for the finals tomorrow?"  
  
"Why aren't you with Yamato?"   
  
He raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Is there some law I have to be with my girlfriend every minute?"   
  
"No, but there should be. It would keep you out of my hair."   
  
He laughed quietly, almost menacingly. Then, after a moment, he said, "You're looking good, Musashi. Much better than when you first came here." Was that supposed to be a compliment? I felt like hitting him. I *should* have hit him.   
  
I stood in stony silence, my eyes fixated in a glare on the lake's rippling water. And then he put his arm around my waist.   
  
I shoved it off as brutally as I could and glared at him fiercely. He laughed that soft chuckle and said, "You're awfully feisty tonight."   
  
"Go away," I glowered.   
  
Then he lunged at me and pulled me against his body, kissing me. I struggled and pushed off of him with all the strength I had. Then I brought my fist up and hit him full in the face, as hard as I could.   
  
He stumbled back, holding his nose. Then he glared at me, hate filling his eyes.   
  
"You...you slut!" he yelled.   
  
I stumbled, taken aback. He called *me* a slut, when he was the one trying to touch me.   
  
My stomach curled. I wanted to scream at him, lunge out and violently attack him. But I stood my ground and glared.   
  
"You've got the wrong girl," I said icily, narrowing my eyes. "I think the slut around here is Yamato."   
  
"Shut up!" he said, bringing up his hand. He held it in midair for a moment.   
  
I glared up at him and saw the hate and lust mixed in his eyes. He was looking my body up and down, trying to memorize my curves and shapes. I felt rage boil in me, and I spit in his face.   
  
He blinked, shocked. And then he slapped me.   
  
I brought my hand up to my face and felt my tender nose. It was bleeding, and a small stream of crimson streaked down my chin and soiled the front of my uniform.   
  
He stormed off angrily. And that was the last I saw of him.   
  
-------   
  
"And then I met you," I say softly. I stroke Kojiro's hair in the darkness and smiled "And you saved me in more ways than I can count."   
  
Kojiro breathes heavily, eyes tightly shut. A small smile has formed on the corners of his mouth. I touch his mouth softly with my fingertips, feeling his lips. Why can't I act this way when he's awake?   
  
"You're my best friend. You know that, don't you?"   
  
"Mmm," Kojiro murmurs in his sleep. He rolls over onto his back.   
  
I stare at his silhouette, watching his chest rise and fall with his steady, even breathing. He's the only person I have who has ever respected me and truly cared for me. And even though he is stupid and naïve at times, I'd never trade him for anyone else.   
  
-------   
  
I hurled another rock at the cafeteria building. It was ten o'clock at night and no one was out, so I decided to take my anger out on the old structure. The rock bounced harmlessly off the rust-red brick wall and rolled onto the ground. I picked up another rock and felt it in my hand.   
  
"What are you doing?"   
  
I whirled around, holding up the rock and preparing to hurl it at the offender. A lanky blue haired boy blocked his head with his arms and begged, "Please, don't throw it! I didn't mean to scare you!"   
  
I eyed him up and down. He was tall and slender, but well built. His lavender-blue hair fell in soft strands almost to his shoulders and he had large green eyes. His face was so delicate looking, giving him an almost feminine look, but at the same time he was rather handsome. I remember the words "pretty boy" popping into my head, and I almost used them to insult him, but something held me back. Instead, I simply lowered my hand and stared at the boy. "What do you want?"   
  
He put his hands down timidly and shrugged. "I was just wondering what you were doing," he said shyly.   
  
"I'm chucking rocks at the building. What does it look like?"   
  
He winced a little at my harsh tone, but I didn't really care. I wasn't in the mood to baby-sit. I turned my back on him and hurled the rock I'd been holding at the building. It hit a wooden shingle, knocking a piece of it off.   
  
"Good throw," the boy remarked. I shrugged.   
  
He stood beside me and picked up a rock. Feeling its weight in his palm he stared at the building while saying, "So what's your name?"   
  
I picked up another rock and flicked the dirt off it with my fingernails. "Musashi. What's yours?"   
  
"Kojiro," he said, throwing the rock. It sailed swiftly through the air and hit the roof, bounced, and rolled into a trashcan.   
  
I laughed a little for the first time in a long time. "That's about a three-pointer," I said, the corners of my mouth quirking into a grin.   
  
Kojiro smiled warmly. "Glad I got you to at least smile a little bit. Something wrong?"   
  
He was speaking to me so naturally, as if he'd known me for years. And in a way, it almost felt like I *had* known him forever. I sighed and rolled my rock back and forth between my hands. "Oh, you know. The usual. I have no friends, no life, no money, nowhere to go. The final exam is tomorrow and I haven't even started studying. Just a typical day in the life of Musashi."   
  
"Sounds like mine," Kojiro said, giving me a wry smile.   
  
"Do you ever feel like the whole world has just...I don't know, turned its back on you?"   
  
"All the time," Kojiro said, kicking the dirt with the toe of his shoe. "Especially my family. We don't...get along very well. I'm different."   
  
"At least you have some family. Mine's pretty much a joke."   
  
"I've seen you around before. You're always by yourself."   
  
I shrugged and kind of swung my arms. I felt a little uncomfortable, and didn't exactly feel like spilling my life story. "I don't really have any use for people. They're pretty stupid."   
  
"Yeah. I know what you mean."   
  
"Funny. I've never seen you before."   
  
It was Kojiro's turn to look a little uncomfortable. "Well...I don't really have any friends. Most guys think I'm a wimp, and...I don't know, I just don't talk to very many people."   
  
"You talked to me."   
  
He was silent for a minute. "You kind of looked like how I feel, I guess. Alone."   
  
"Alone," I repeated. We were quiet for a minute and listened to the still of the evening.   
  
The cool, steady breeze blew across our faces. Lights were going out in dorm rooms as people went to bed a little earlier, hoping to get a good night's sleep for the test tomorrow. In the darkness of the campus, standing in the shadow of the looming brick cafeteria, I knew that he was right. I had always been pretty much alone. But now, this evening, I felt something else that I hadn't felt in a long time...a sort of special closeness. It confused me a little. But it felt nice.   
  
The moment faded as briefly as it had appeared, and I was still standing with a rock in my hand. I swung my arm back and took a pitcher's stance. "Think I can bust out that window?" I said, pointing to a tall glass window about forty feet away from us.   
  
Kojiro squinted and grinned. "Sure. Why not?"   
  
I pulled my arm back and let it fly. The rock hurtled through the air and hit the glass, shattering it with a joyously loud crashing noise. Somewhere in the distance, a Growlithe barked.   
  
Kojiro and I exploded into a giggling fit. A light came on in the neighboring building: the dean's office. Buttoning in his laughter, Kojiro grabbed my arm and pulled me as we ran off. Once out of earshot, he grinned and said, "Hey, Musashi?"   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"We're not going to get any studying done tonight. What say we go down to one of the dorms and hang out? I know there's a party going on somewhere tonight."   
  
"I'm game," I said cheerfully. I felt new. Elated. For lack of a better euphemism, I was on top of the world. He extended his arm and I took playfully locked mine into his. And then we took off.   
  
-------   
  
It was some party.   
  
I don't remember much of it. There was music, ear-splitting music that wracked my system with rhythm and off-key chords. And I danced, and flirted, and batted my eyes at everybody who came by. And Kojiro would just grin that half-smile and egg me on. We danced together a little, even. He was a little klutzy and awkward, and kept stepping on my feet, but it was fun. I helped him out and by the end he was getting the hang of it.   
  
However, there was a lot to drink. And I was very much a party girl. I remember slugging down as much as I could hold and offering to Kojiro. He'd just stare at me, wide-eyed, and shake his head.   
  
"Baby," I scorned, throwing my head back and tipping the contents of a beer down my throat.   
  
"It's illegal."   
  
"It's only illegal if you get caught," I argued. The room was spinning a little, and I leaned casually against a wall to maintain my balance.   
  
"Right. Whatever. I don't want any."   
  
I shrugged and popped open another can.   
  
I sure as heck don't remember how that party ended.   
  
Because I was pretty bashed.   
  
But I do remember waking up in unfamiliar surroundings.   
  
In an unfamiliar bed.   
  
I shot a look around the room. THIS WAS NOT WHERE I BELONGED.   
  
Furious? I was seething.   
  
Musashi, has experience taught you nothing? Men don't respect you, they're only after one thing...   
  
Oh god.   
  
I flung the covers back and jumped out of the bed. I was still in my tech uniform, the same thing I had been wearing yesterday, only much more mussed and wrinkled. It didn't matter, though. If clothes can come off, they can go back on, too. I wasn't going to let that fool me.   
  
I threw open the door to the bedroom and ran right into Kojiro. He was holding a little tray with some breakfast foods on it, and was dressed in his tech uniform, all ironed and neat.   
  
He smiled warmly. "Good morning. I was just about to wake you up. The exam's today."   
  
I slapped the tray out of his hands, spilling stuff everywhere. His eyes widened.   
  
"I knew it!!" I screamed, exploding. "What did you do to me last night?"   
  
Kojiro looked totally bewildered. "We went to that party and I didn't know where you lived, so I just brought you back here," he said, his voice faltering a little.   
  
"Yeah, right. You slipped me something! In my drink! So you could..."   
  
"You had beer! A ton of it...you were drunk out of your mind! I couldn't just leave you there like that!"   
  
"No, you had to bring me back here and...you know what you did!!"   
  
Kojiro gasped a little. "Musashi! I didn't...I would never do something like that!"   
  
"Yeah. I don't believe it."   
  
"I slept out here on the couch all night," Kojiro said. His eyes were pleading. "I promise you...I would never do that. Ever."   
  
I peered around behind him and saw his couch. A few blankets were piled in a lump on one end, and a pillow rested at the other. I turned my eyes back on him, but I felt calmer now. "You could have just made it look like you slept out here. How can I know what's true? Prove it."   
  
Kojiro's mouth opened, and then shut. He shrugged hopelessly. "I guess I can't prove it."   
  
But he was wrong. The proof was in his eyes.   
  
I hadn't seen that kind of innocent honesty in forever. Not since my mother left me. He hung his head and let out a sigh. I took his hand in mine and he brought his head up a little, looking me directly in the eyes. "I believe you," I said resolutely.   
  
"Thanks," he said, smiling. His eyes filled with gratitude.   
  
"You ready to go fail that exam with me?"   
  
"As soon as I clean this up," he said, pointing to the mess on the floor.   
  
I blushed.   
  
-------   
  
"We sure did fail that stupid thing, didn't we?" I say to Kojiro.   
  
He's still asleep. But I don't care; at least he's listening to me. And not interrupting, for once.   
  
"Do you remember that, Kojiro? Getting kicked out of Pokémon Tech and setting the record for the lowest test scores ever? Are we pathetic or what?"   
  
Kojiro murmurs something. I don't know. Maybe he means, "Jess, can't you see I'm trying to sleep?"   
  
"I know. But I have a lot on my mind. And Nyase wouldn't understand."   
  
Even asleep, that cat can be annoying. He snores funny. Besides, it's just more therapeutic to talk to Kojiro. For me, anyway.   
  
"I remember running away after we got kicked out. Joining that bicycle gang. Hey, that was probably the only time we were really famous. Or popular. Maybe we should have stayed with them."   
  
Kojiro frowns. His forehead wrinkles up in funny little creases.   
  
"Yeah, okay. I gotcha. You felt out of place because of the training wheels, I know.  
  
Kojiro, you klutz...even at fifteen you were completely uncoordinated."  
  
"Mmph."   
  
"Sorry," I mutter. "Don't take it personally. You're cute like that."   
  
Kojiro smiles dreamily.   
  
"Are you actually awake, Kojiro? Because if you are, I really will kill you."   
  
No answer. He's still got that goofy smile on his face.   
  
I sigh. "Well for a sleeping man, you're remarkably perceptive. And cute. Or did I already say that? I think I did."   
  
Kojiro flops over on his side, turning his back to me. It startles me a little, and makes me feel sad again.   
  
I'm remembering the time Kojiro left me.   
  
-------   
  
Rumika.   
  
I can't get her face out of my mind. I guess that's not surprising, though. As much as it kills me to admit it, Nyase is right: that girl looks a lot like me. But I'd still like to think I'm prettier. It's vain, I know. But I'm a pretty vain person. And it makes me feel better.   
  
Probably what kills me the most is knowing how I treated Kojiro. All I could think about at the time was getting Kojiro married so Nyase and I could collect off his fortune. I wanted to get rich quick, and this seemed the easiest way to do it.   
  
Well, I didn't exactly want Kojiro to marry that girl. I even said that we should fake the wedding and scram with the money.   
  
But I guess that doesn't change the fact that I put myself before him. Like I always do.   
  
Am I just some horrible person? I think I am. The only things in life that give me any satisfaction are money and my good looks.   
  
Well, and staring at Kojiro for hours after everybody else has gone to sleep. Just listening to him breathe and knowing he's so near to me that I can reach out and touch him. And knowing that no matter how many times I hit him, mock him, scorn him, accuse him of being a wimp, that he's still my best friend. I mean, how many girls can say that? And when Kojiro left me that day, and stayed at his father's mansion with that horrible Rumika, my world was destroyed. For the second time in my life, my heart was ripped out and torn in two.   
  
My best friend chose that detestable woman over me. I was walking with Nyase, after we had been brutally blown out of Gaa-chan's doghouse. Nyase was trying to be cheerful, convincing me that we could get along fine without old Kojiro.   
  
"Just think, we won't have him to mess up our plans now!" he said, trying to be encouraging.   
  
"You're usually the one who messes up our plans, Nyase!" I said angrily, glaring at the little cat.   
  
"Oh please, Musashi, if it weren't for me the only thing you two clowns would get accomplished was your makeup and breakfast. You owe your very careers to me!"   
  
"Shut up, Nyase. I don't want to hear about it," I said, irritated. More than irritated. I was desolate and alone, but I wasn't about to let that cat in on it. Besides, he'd only laugh at me.   
  
That's the annoying thing about Nyase. He tends to laugh at other people's misfortunes.   
  
Then again, so do I.   
  
But I know that even though Nyase pretends to be all tough and independent, he goes entirely weak at the knees when left on his own. He's totally dependent on me and Kojiro, and although Nyase and I disagree a lot, we're still friends. And I know that Nyase has a bigger heart than most pokémon. I can see right through his tough exterior, and I what I see a forlorn soul whose only goal is to love and be loved. And maybe get a little cold cash in the bargain. I sometimes wonder if other people can see through me that way.   
  
I think maybe sometimes I'm not that bad of a person after all. I have my mean streaks, and they're harsher and more brutal than most people's are, and I do have mood streaks and I do get violent...   
  
...but I know that I'm not like that inside. I'm just like Nyase.   
  
I want to love. And be loved.   
  
Money, looks, glamour...it's not quite as important.   
  
What makes me mad is that it took me seventeen years of my life to realize this. And I had to lose my best friend in exchange for this wisdom.   
  
Wisdom's pretty painful.   
  
The tears brimmed to my eyes that day as we walked on. Dusk was falling, and the fields and forests surrounding Nyase and I were truly beautiful. I blinked my eyes in rapid succession.   
  
"Oh well," I said shakily, "Guess Kojiro decided to hang up his Rocket Dan costume." I looked up at the sky. The sun was a huge, glowing ball of orange fire, and it illuminated the clouds with rays of fiery light. It blinded me, but was so captivating I couldn't turn my eyes from it.   
  
"Guess all that money was just too tempting for Kojiro to give up," Nyase remarked. His voice sounded sad and a little wistful.   
  
The truth in Nyase's words blinded me more than the sun. I had been thinking the same thing, but actually hearing the words made it all the more devastating to me. I just didn't want to believe that Kojiro would ditch his friends for money. I didn't want to believe he was shallow and petty...like me.   
  
I'd always thought there had been something more there.   
  
"I guess you're right," I replied to Nyase after a brief silence. I lowered my head to the ground.  
  
  
  
And then an angel from heaven descended and spoke to me.   
  
"Prepared for trouble?"   
  
I shot a look skyward and saw it. Our hideous Nyase air balloon. Standing in the basket in that self-assured, typical pose was Kojiro. My heart skipped a beat. I almost cried out in joy and surprise. But I contained myself. Smiling almost tearfully, my voice wavered slightly as I said, "Make it double!"   
  
Kojiro swooped the balloon down to the ground and I began to run. I was giggling like a little girl as I threw my arm out toward his extended gloved hand. He gripped me firmly by the wrist and powerfully lifted me into the basket with him.   
  
I never knew he was so strong.   
  
I set one hand on the rim of the basket and put the other on my hip, composing myself.   
  
Proudly, I tilted my head back as I said, "I guess we're not going to get rich this time either?"   
  
Kojiro shrugged and put a hand on the back of his neck in that awkward, child-like way of his. "Guess not. They wouldn't give me the inheritance."   
  
Oh, Kojiro, I don't care. I'd rather have you any day.   
  
"Oh well. We may not make a lot of money..." But we have each other. Always, right?  
  
"...but we sure have got our freedom!" Kojiro smiled. "Yeah. Double trouble time, right?" he asked, extending his hand.   
  
I smiled. I wanted to hug him. "Sounds great to me, Kojiro," I said simply, putting my hand in his.   
  
He clasped it warmly and we stood there, staring at each other. When it comes to expressing our feelings with words, we're pretty much amateurs.   
  
But his eyes told a different story. One I can't put into words, and one I'll never forget. That's when I knew, really knew, that our friendship was something most people don't have, and never have. We have a bond, Kojiro and I, that can't be broken. Not by money, enemies, failure, success, or anything else.   
  
I guess we're pretty lucky people after all.   
  
-------   
  
The only thing other people are good for is letting you down...   
  
The words flash through my mind. I've believed that for seventeen years. All my life, people have let me down. My mother, my father, my aunt, my first boyfriend...they all left me.   
  
Kojiro?  
  
Kojiro left you too, Musashi.   
  
But he came back.   
  
Tears again. Warm, happy tears this time. Not the bitter ones that wrack your body with sobs. Kojiro will never leave me. We care too much, even if we don't always show it.   
  
I unzip my sleeping bag and climb out. I need a walk.   
  
Thoughts fill my mind as I walk down to the creek bed and settle myself on a rock. I let my bare legs dangle in the cool water and listen to the nighttime chirps and croaks emanating from the stream's bank. My whole life, I've been too afraid to get close to people because I'm too afraid they'll leave me. I've had so many losses; I've been destroyed so many times that I don't want to deal with it anymore. Besides, the people I know only look out for themselves.   
  
That's not true. My mother looked out for me. I sigh. All she ever wanted was the best for me. I was her princess, and she wanted to treat me like one. It wasn't her fault. She didn't want to leave me.   
  
Oh, Mommy...I'm so sorry.   
  
More tears. A little more bitter this time.   
  
My father cared for me too, I realized. I remember that conversation he had with my mother the night before she left. He loved me, too...   
  
So why did he have to go?   
  
I guess sometimes there aren't happy endings. The awful sad truth of it all is that life really isn't fair.   
  
So what now? I've been living this big lie my whole life. I've cheated myself by not getting close to people. I've cost myself my happiness. There's more to people than dishonesty, greed, and betrayal. There's compassion, and fear, and togetherness, and solitude, and hope...there's times that you share together and things you have to face on your own. Good times and bad times, and quite often it's not an even mix. But that's what makes the best times so much sweeter.   
  
And there are some things that are meant to be shared...like joy. And a long-awaited success. And even stupid things, like a picnic in the park or a sharing a jelly-filled donut with your best friend. I shake my head, grinning. So moralistic, Musashi. You're a hopeless case.   
  
I hear a noise behind me coming slowly through the bushes. I don't really need to turn around to see who it is.   
  
He sits down beside me. "Up kinda late, aren't you?"   
  
I shrug. "Just thinking."  
  
"Any bright ideas?"   
  
"No. Just something I should have realized a long time ago."   
  
Kojiro smiles sleepily. "That you should be in bed?"   
  
"It's a little more philosophical than that," I say, raising an eyebrow in annoyance.   
  
"Okay."   
  
Stillness. We sit in companionable silence, and I'm just happy to be near him.   
  
"Musashi, I had the strangest dream."   
  
"What was it?" I ask, splashing my foot softly in the water. I watch the ripples spread outward in perfect concentric circles. Nature's clever like that.   
  
"I don't remember all of it. But you were in it."  
  
"Was I?"   
  
"Yeah. You were talking to me, mostly."   
  
My cheeks are growing warm. Good thing it's dark out. "Did I say anything important?"   
  
"I think so."   
  
Silence. I look at him expectantly. "Well?" I press gently.   
  
He shrugs and puts his arm around me, hugging me too him. He gently strokes the back of my hair with his hand.   
  
I relax. It's something I haven't done in quite a while. Leaning against his warm chest, I murmur, "What did I tell you?"   
  
Kojiro smiles in the semidarkness. "That you had something important to tell me."   
  
I roll my eyes.   
  
He's right, of course. Amazing how he reads my mind like that.   
  
I love you, Kojiro. Best buds forever, right?   
  
Right.   
  
He pats my head softly and says, "Come on, Musashi, I'll take you back to bed, all right?" Standing up, he extends his hand down to me to lift me up.   
  
I take it, and he pulls me to my feet. We walk side-by-side back to our camp, and he helps me back into my sleeping bag, tucking me in and making sure I'm comfortable before climbing back into his own. Within seconds, he's fast asleep.   
  
I'm glad I've finally found someone to trust.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~   
  
Were you moved? I know I was!! ^_^   
  
Complaints go here: rikachu@juno.com 


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